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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23316439">a story about fire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/inexorableformation/pseuds/inexorableformation'>inexorableformation</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>fire [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Overwatch (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Family Reunions, Father-Son Relationship, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, POV Multiple, Post-Recall, big fan of using the family reunions tag for this considering how it goes, not really angst? and theres a happy ending its really not that dark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:21:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,578</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23316439</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/inexorableformation/pseuds/inexorableformation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>He burns.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jesse McCree &amp; Reaper | Gabriel Reyes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>fire [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1676749</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>a story about fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>the graphic depiction of violence is the first scene and it's reyes dying in the explosion/fire so if that's not something u're comfortable with go ahead and skip it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He burns. There is no sound, only blinding white light that eats him alive, gnaws at his skin, then his flesh, then the bones below. If he screams he can't hear it. If he dies he can't feel it.</p><p>He doesn't die. His curse doesn't let him. It knits back together what the fire destroys, fast, faster, so it can burn again. If he screams he can't hear it but he can feel the wheezing shaking his body, the sobbing rattling through him like the ash is.</p><p>He crawls out of the flames when he gets tired of burning, when he realizes he is not going to end this any other way. Breaks his fingers dragging his mangled mess of a torso along, ripping off skin and smoke as he moves across debris. It takes hours. He's on fire. He's throwing up black fog. When the sun comes into view it burns him, too.</p><p>He coughs and trembles and rises from the wreckage.</p><p> </p><p>#</p><p> </p><p>"Can you put him back together?"</p><p>"I can stabilize his condition. He will retain his powers. I'm sure you will be content with the results."</p><p>"Good."</p><p>"This might have been a stroke of luck for us. It finalized what the treatment started. It's fascinating, really. He might not be able to die anymore after this."</p><p>"Do we have a way to contain him?"</p><p>"That is not my responsibility."</p><p>"I don't need to tell you he's dangerous, doctor."</p><p>"And I don't need to remind you that I'm the only one who can alleviate his symptoms. Do you really believe he will throw that away?"</p><p>I can hear you, he doesn't say where he is reforming from smoke, I can hear every word.</p><p> </p><p>#</p><p> </p><p>McCree runs into the Reaper by accident. They walk into the same warehouse from different sides, stare each other down. McCree thinks fast, shoots, hits only smoke. Sees flammable containers stored away and they go up in flames quick enough. He gets ready to fight as the fire springs to life.</p><p>Reaper flinches violently away from it, stays on the other side, retreats into the corner. He's still as a statue, quiet as a grave.</p><p>"You're scared o' fire," McCree realizes and there's no glee in his voice, no triumph. "That's a lil' unexpected."</p><p>Reaper doesn't answer, steps as far away from the flames as the room allows it. His posture is stiff, his spine rigid. When he crosses his arms over his chest his claws dig into the fabric of his coat.</p><p>McCree touches the brim of his hat.</p><p>"Scared enough you'd let pick up on it? Makin' me feel kinda bad here."</p><p>"It's not a good memory."</p><p>"Memory? You got-"</p><p>"It's what I died to," Reaper says, dangerously neutral. "I burned to death."</p><p>McCree's heart aches despite his better judgment.</p><p>"Sorry 'bout that."</p><p>"Are you? I thought we were enemies."</p><p>"Sure," McCree says and grimaces. "That don't mean I wish that on anyone. 'S what happened to my dad, too, I think."</p><p>"My condolences."</p><p>"Why are you tellin' me this, though?"</p><p>Reaper shrugs.</p><p>"I could be lying."</p><p>"Nah," McCree says. "'M pretty good at readin' people. Mask or not. You're actually scared. That why you haven't attacked me?"</p><p>"I wasn't going to."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"I wasn't going to attack you," Reaper repeats. "I have no orders to kill you."</p><p>"Most people don't need orders to wanna kill me."</p><p>"I'm not most people. I'm dead."</p><p>It makes McCree laugh out loud. The fire keeps on burning but he's at ease, warm, comfortable. Reaper's posture relaxes, too.</p><p>"So," McCree starts and rubs his neck. "We just gonna not fight, huh? Just go our separate ways?"</p><p>"Probably."</p><p>"Not gonna kill me for findin' out your weakness?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>"I'll take it."</p><p>When the fire decays they're both gone.</p><p> </p><p>#</p><p> </p><p>The smoke curls around McCree the second the explosion would hit him. He feels little of the heat, coughs through the ash. Runs with the last of his strength until the window is in view. The fire is faster than his aching legs. The fire laps at his back and he grits his teeth and tries not to scream as part of the burning cloth drops its embers onto his skin. A few more steps, a few more-</p><p>He can't. He can't make it. Falls, writhing, until something grabs a hold of his serape and tugs him back up, forward, out the window and a few meters down into the courtyard. McCree gasps as he lands on his front, wheezes. Clean air. No heat. No pain. He pats at his back, his clothes, until all sparks have died down. Only then do his eyes fall on the figure beside him.</p><p>"Oh shit," he says. "Hey, can you hear me?"</p><p>Reaper coughs but nods, as well. Attempts to lift his upper body off the ground and collapses again. His coat is singed but it's the smoke rising from behind his mask, from the inside, that has McCree's heart stutter.</p><p>"Why?" he asks. "Why'd you do that? You got hurt just to save me?"</p><p>Reaper laughs. His voice crackles like a power surge.</p><p>"Looks that way."</p><p>"<em>Why</em>?"</p><p>"Seemed like a good idea at the time."</p><p>McCree stares at him, the shaking shoulders and the fog that never ceases to bleed out. Opens his mouth, closes it. Finally he reaches out, helps Reaper to his feet, holds him steady.</p><p>"I rented a room around here," McCree says. "Lucky, honestly. Let's go."</p><p>"I'll be fine, you don't need to-"</p><p>"Let's go."</p><p>They make it within a few minutes. Neither of them talks. Reaper drops onto the pull-out couch and coughs out another cloud of smoke, grips his throat with one of his clawed gloves as if to hold it together by force. When he drops his hand most of the fog is gone.</p><p>"It isn't smart to bring me here."</p><p>"It ain't smart to get burned to a crisp to save my ass," McCree says and plops down on the only chair. "And here we are."</p><p>Reaper snorts, lying back on the dusty covers.</p><p>"You got me there."</p><p>"Why?" McCree asks again. "Just tell me why."</p><p>Reaper shrugs.</p><p>"Because you would have died if I hadn't."</p><p>A sharp, sharp pain. A punch to the gut.</p><p>"Why's that matter?" McCree snaps. "What does Talon want with me that's so damn important?"</p><p>"Talon doesn't want anything with you. They'd prefer you dead."</p><p>"Then why-"</p><p>"You know why."</p><p>"I don't. Explain it to me."</p><p>Reaper sighs. Sits up.</p><p>"You said your dad died in a fire."</p><p>McCree shifts and keeps on hurting.</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>Reaper gestures vaguely with his left hand.</p><p>"Well, he did. But the thing is, his condition, his illness, kept putting back together what was already burned. Over and over and in the end he was still there, in a way. Different. But not gone."</p><p>"You're-"</p><p>"Yeah," Reaper says. "That's me. Hey."</p><p>McCree stares and stares.</p><p>"Can you prove it? Take off your mask or somethin'?"</p><p>"I could, yeah, but I don't have a face right now. Give me like half an hour."</p><p>"I'm supposed to sit here for half an hour tryin' to decide if I can stop grievin' after a decade?"</p><p>"If you've already waited a decade-"</p><p>"Just tell me somethin' only Reyes would know," McCree says, sharp, desperate. "Please."</p><p>Reaper's shoulders slump. He hesitates. A deeper sting. A colder fear.</p><p>"When you were seventeen," he says, "about two weeks into basic training with Overwatch you stole supplies from storage. Tried to run to get back to whoever was left of Deadlock in the middle of the night. You came back two hours later completely drenched and told me you had gotten lost in the dark. I think you hid the stolen shit somewhere and we found it the next day."</p><p>McCree blinks, slowly.</p><p>"Never realized you knew 'bout that."</p><p>"I did, yeah."</p><p>"And you didn't report it?"</p><p>"Nah," Reaper says. "You came back. Wasn't anything to report."</p><p>McCree looks down at his hands, clenches his fists only to open them again seconds later. Part of his sleeve is burned.</p><p>"Tell me another one."</p><p>"You didn't celebrate your 18th birthday because you didn't tell anyone when it was until the next year."</p><p>"What happened the next year?"</p><p>"You started crying when we got you a cake. Fareeha decorated it and the candles kept falling over. I think it had strawberries or something, I was in charge of distracting you for the day so you wouldn't notice she was putting it in your room. But yeah, you cried your eyes out. I almost did too because that's where I was at, I guess."</p><p>McCree exhales a long breath.</p><p>"You got another, boss?"</p><p> </p><p>#</p><p> </p><p>Talon burns. Reaper sets the charges and doesn't stay to watch. He goes home.</p><p>"It's done," he says. "It's over."</p><p>McCree pulls him into a hug even before he nods his acknowledgment. Holds Reaper so close there is barely room to breathe. Mumbles under his breath about finally and being proud and having his family back where it belongs.</p><p>There's a power cut two hours later. McCree goes to find candles and lights them. Reaper watches the flames, mesmerized.</p><p>"I'll just put them a little bit away," McCree says. "Just to be sure."</p><p>"Just to be sure," Reaper echoes. He holds his hand over the fire, a safe distance, a good distance. McCree touches his shoulder, leads him away.</p><p>"Let's go."</p><p>Reaper hums. Tears his eyes away from the flickering light.</p>
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